


Symphony Soldier

by Felix_Wood



Category: Skullgirls
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Betrayal, Blood and Violence, Cyborgs, F/M, Family Loss, Film Noir, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Magical Artifacts, Non-Canon Relationship, POV First Person, Partnership, References to Drugs, Slow Burn, Spies & Secret Agents, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 00:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20480147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felix_Wood/pseuds/Felix_Wood
Summary: Waking up fourteen years after the victory over the Skullgirl, Ben couldn't imagine that he would be drawn into another war where nobody needs good guys. How will a ghost from the past survive in the world without a place for him?





	Symphony Soldier

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Солдат Симфонии](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19249816) by [Felix_Wood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felix_Wood/pseuds/Felix_Wood). 

“Are you awake now, officer Birdland? Good, good”. This was the first thing I heard when the hurricane in the skull box finally subsided. 

My eyes still hurt and everything was floating in front of me, spreading into yellow-white spots so I couldn’t make out the interlocutor.   
The confident but at the same time not credible female voice reminded me of the former boss, Mrs. Lawson, from those distant days when I had just finished my studies. Hell, even this dumb habit of repeating words twice seemed to be transmitted from her. However, there was no time to feel nostalgic. When the fog cleared before my eyes, I saw a nurse. Yes, a typical nurse in a white lab coat with a red cross on her breast pocket as if she descended from a brochure of some dentistry. At first glance, everything seemed to be clear: I lost consciousness during the battle, survived and ended up in the hospital.

The question was: since when hospitals of New Meridian have such giant computers and high ceilings?

Something was wrong in here. Analysis of the situation started at the same second. No one bothered to tie me up, so I wasn’t captured. There were empty but impressive syringes on the stand next to me. I was connected through a finger to a device that remotely looked like a dropper. My leg bones felt hurt and itchy. My head was going to explode. They operated on me and apparently implanted something. Adding high technologies only the royal family can afford, it turns out…

“Am I in an ASG-lab?” I asked trying to get on my feet, but they felt like not my own. I couldn’t control them. 

“Don’t move!” The nurse said superciliously, ignoring my question, then took a glass with blue liquid. “I won’t patch you up twice”. 

She put the glass on the stand and ordered to drink it to the bottom. The mere sight of a mysterious swill confused me. The Skullgirl hadn’t corrupted my memory, so I perfectly remembered that the only crystal blue liquids in Canopy Kingdom can be either purified fuel for zeppelins, or “bone” - a deadly booze that’s illegally poured in poor neighborhoods. It appeared on the streets recently. No one, except the manufacturers themselves, yet knew what this thing is made of. We only knew it was blue transparent burning and sticky like glue. Irvin and I should have started looking for a supplier right after dealing with the Medici underground gambling establishments, but then... happened what’s happened. It was somewhat surprising that after two years someone still called me “Officer Birdland”, especially in the ASG. 

I had no reason to distrust the nurse further. If she wanted to poison me, I would be dead by now. Furthermore, Avian and the company would never get rid of me – it’s not his style. I carefully got up, with a free hand, then reluctantly raised a glass with a blue liquid, held my breath and drank the contents in one gulp. My throat tightened with cold immediately as though I took a sip of soda with ice. I coughed. My entire body trembled; even numb legs suddenly came back to life.

“Well, it’s not fuel” I said when I stopped coughing “One question: why should I drink it?” 

“Not quite. A sip of real fuel would burn your esophagus. This is my own invention”. The nurse responded and looked at the clock. “Theoretically it should activate your legs in five minutes and thirty-nine seconds”. 

“You mean my leg implants? Was it that bad?” 

“Precisely. You’ve got bionic implants in the legs, hands, on top of the solar plexus and even a little bit near the back of your head”. A malicious smile appeared on the woman's face. “I won’t lie it was an adventure. We tested a new model and you’re the first subject”. Then she took a pen and a notebook. “Now I shall test your cognitive functions. Two plus five?” 

“That’s not necessary, doc, I feel as good as ever”. 

“Two. Plus. Five”. She insisted, looking at me full of indignation. 

I noticed that behind her blue bangs there was no second eye. In its place, I saw a small bandage the size of an eye socket with the same cross as on the lab coat. Iris of the eye, which seemed to be brown, acquired a red tint in the moment of anger. An obvious thought hit my head: “No, this woman clearly isn’t just a medical worker”. 

“Seven”. I answered with a sigh. 

“What will you do, if I attack you?”

“I will defend myself. In a jazz rhythm”. I lied in case she really attacks. Although I entirely trusted Avian’s colleagues, I saw this virtuoso of surgery for the first time and didn’t know what to expect.  
The nurse wrote down something long and hard. Only after two or three minutes she continued:

“What happened during the battle against the Skullgirl? What do you remember?”

I didn’t have time to answer because I suddenly felt that my legs started moving again. The nurse, who also noticed this, pulled the plug out of the connector in my finger and indicated with a gesture that I could wake up. The first steps were harder than usual – my bones became to weight like dumbbells. I completely forgot about the nurse's question, accustomed to new sensations. She continued recording, looking at me from time to time as if prostheses were more important than my memory. It was alarming.  
A winding path brought my heavier limbs to someone's table. In addition to the standard terminal, there were a lamp and a couple of photographs and a flyer with an invitation to the «Bastet’s Den» club. Some Eliza was about to give a concert, but it wasn’t the thing that caught my attention. The date in italic font destabilized me. It was like an electric shock. In a moment I turned to the woman:

“How long was I out?”

She looked at her watch again and answered monotonously:

“Three days, six hours and five minutes from the moment our agents found you.” 

She put down the notes and came up to me. 

“You shouldn't have seen that, Officer Birdland.” Before I knew it, the leaflet was first in her hands, and then dumped in the trash.

“It’s… the year of First Skullgirl 875?” I had too many questions “But how? What happened to the Skullheart? Is it gone? And Dr. Avian… Is he still in charge in the ASG?” 

“Listen!” The nurse sighed. She couldn’t stand it anymore. “I will answer all of your questions. Later. Now it’s important to know if the implants have fit in”.

A pressing pain immediately struck the brain. It rattled again, whistled in my head, as at the moment of contact of my steel brass knuckles with Skullheart. I was supposed to be its funeral march, a man who, if he didn’t break it forever, would delay the next cycle for many years. It won. I don’t know how but won. While I was thinking about all this, trying to overcome a migraine, the nurse managed to examine me two or three times, then forced to drink another unpleasant-tasting liquid and gave me brand new everyday clothes. A silver-cast gray suit with a cloak was waiting for me on a hanger such as a trilby hat with a black border. Adding to this a striped tie over my shirt, I shod. My legs finally ceased to be felt by clumsy stumps – this blue swill worked. For the first time in fourteen years, he was ready for work and defense. No matter how interested in the fate of Canopy over the past years I was, my only interlocutor didn’t give my any more answers. I could only guess and wait.

Before I could get out of the screen, the nurse, whose name as it turned out was Valerie, returned a holster with my revolver to me. The skin was rubbed and in some places it was peeling off but the native nine-millimeter shone as in the good old days. Back then I could rightfully be called an officer. The feeling of nostalgia leaped up with incredible force, so I wanted to try it on something, but Valerie foresaw everything. The chamber was empty.

“No bullets until your discharge”. She said with the severity of a schoolteacher. 

I fastened my holster on my belt and covered it with a cloak. It’ll still be useful to me with or without ammunition.

“Haven't I been discharged yet?” I asked, being surprised at the wonders of modern medicine. 

For a long time, I haven’t been put on my feet so quickly. Sometimes I had to lie with a fracture for more than a week but this time I barely lost half my body. Valerie seemed to be in a hurry. It’s unlikely that I would have received the answer so soon if the iron door in the far corner of the room hadn’t opened with a piercing rattle. He entered, the man machine.   
I couldn’t see his face because of the iron helmet, the dome of which was visible only to the half-mechanized brain. His eyes glowed red like the taillights of a car. The gray officer coat and shoulder straps uncovered him as a high-ranking military man. “Gilding. Three stripes and an "umbrella". Lieutenant General” I concluded. 

The man machine, apparently not noticing me from behind the screen, walked quickly to Valerie.

“They are already here, Dr. Janssen”. A discontented metallic voice sounded from the respirator. “I sincerely hope you have something to show this time.”

“Yes, sir”. She said, reluctantly saluting, and then called me.

“Well, you are already on your feet”. He changed abruptly in his voice. “Welcome back, Symphony Soldier”.

That’s my codename. Avian gave me two... no, sixteen years ago, when I just came to the ASG-lab wounded, dirty and betrayed by the only power I truly believed in. Much more appropriate than “Officer Birdland”. LTG introduced himself as B. Drain; he was the new leader of the organization. We greeted each other like soldiers. 

“Visitors are here to see you too, Ben”. Drain immediately got down to business. “We shall proceed to the reception room. At the same time we’ll conduct the adaptation course for you to understand why so many things changed”. 

All of this didn’t inspire any confidence. A minute ago, he spoke of me as an exhibit at an exhibition, and now he is so kind. On the other hand, this is a chance to learn at least something about the future. I looked at Valerie. She nodded silently. I decided to trust her. Again. 

The reception was in the same building as the laboratory, but two floors higher. Coming out of the elevator, General Drain and I found ourselves in a spacious marble room resembling a hall of a luxury hotel: there were sofas and armchairs everywhere, a reception desk and a bar were located at the opposite entrance, a loud hearing caressing sound sounded from the speakers, a huge gilded chandelier hung from the ceiling. Apparently, from the age of Skullgirl Selene the ASG finally received decent funding. For a few seconds I even forgot where I was, lost my vigilance. But this concert just started. At the nearest of the sofas I noticed a woman in an open purple dress. A hat with feathers, curly gray hair, pale skin and a black mask covering my face – I immediately recognized her.

“Dahlia?” I couldn’t believe my eyes. “Is that really you?”

The memories of joint sweeps of Little Insmouth from the Dagonian pimps immediately struck my head. We found their underground brothel, brought out a crowd of half-naked girls exhausted by hunger and drugs. I still remembered how we smashed everything and pressed the damned Harvey Fortune there. Only goddesses know how I could get out if not for Dahlia and her grenade launcher. Raids with her let me forget about guilt for Irvin’s death at least for a while.

She wasn’t alone. Four guards stood around the perimeter. All on one face, everyone was silent and looked at me suspiciously. However, the woman ordered them not to twitch with an elegant gesture and, rising from the couch, came out to me.

“Ben Birdland,” She said ironically. “I didn’t expect to meet you today. They told me you’re still unconscious”.

“The blue thing doc gave me will raise the dead. I wish we had something like this fourteen years ago”.

Dahlia brought her fingers together and raised her head.

“So... you already know” I heard seriousness in her voice. “What else did you find out?”

General Drain apparently also suspected something was amiss. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that he took out a small remote control from his pocket. Now this was definitely not good.

“Nothing”. I admitted. “I don’t even know where Dr. Avian is now”.

For a few moments there was only silence in the air.

“What happened to him?” I didn’t relent, looking at LTG, then at Dahlia.

“He retired”. She answered abruptly. “Forget about him, many things have changed during this time. Our management included.

“Wait, what? Why did he retire? What’s the new management? Why is everyone hiding everything from me?”

I expected from Dahlia any answer from a reasonable explanation to a dodgy reticence, but I was shocked by what she said:

“He's asking too many questions. Turn him off, Drain”.

Click the toggle switch on the remote. Nothing’s happened. Once more. The same result. The guard revived again. The prosthetic hand clenched into fist, the other one reached for an empty revolver.  
Suddenly I heard the elevator doors open behind me.

A shot of buckshot. One of Dahlia's bodyguards fell to the ground, screaming and clutching at his belly in agony, which had turned into a bloody mess. The rest of the guards immediately hid in shelters and only their boss didn’t even move. Without losing a single second I tried to grab her by the throat but that one with an iron grip repelled my attack and charged with a knee in my chest. The elbow on the back sent me in the marble floor.

“That’s it?” Dahlia was angry. “Drain, you promised me an unstoppable killer, not an armless cripple!”

However, Drain in the outbreak of commotion was unlikely to hear her; he washed off at the first opportunity. Taking advantage of the moment, I quickly got up and drew the revolver, but Dahlia didn’t give a bluff and pulled it out of my hands. We grappled in hand-to-hand combat, while the unexpected ally continued to shoot faceless goons. The steel fist turned out to be very helpful. The blow became more targeted and stronger with each new hook. In the end the traitor began to get tired of the constant blocks, even missed one but didn’t fell down. Realizing that it was time to finish this solo, I pounced on the woman with all the weight of my body and tumbled down into the ground.

She continued to resist immobilized but not broken. I had to put steel on her head (The mask seemed to partially absorb kinetic energy. I beat several times) and leave her unconscious. I couldn’t kill the former partner. Even if I could, there was nothing to do it with. However, the battle didn’t end there. I lifted the revolver and pulled out suitable bullets from the holster of the mercenary who was letting out the last breath. Then I took cover behind the sofa and opened fire blindly.

“They’re mine, officer Birdland!” Valerie’s voice was heard from behind a neighboring column.

After two shots from a hunting rifle the shutter clicked and strong language followed. Seemed like Valerie ran out of ammo. I wanted to argue with my new ally but she dropped her weapon, flew out of the shelter like a bird and threw a knife at the remaining guards. One of the knives hit right between the eyes. The guy didn’t even have time to open his mouth as a thin stream of blood was already flowing down his forehead. The lifeless body knelt and collapsed face down, forcing the cold piece of iron to go into the brain along the hilt. The second knife flew a little less accurately, hitting the guard in the shoulder. He cried out in pain but not for long. My bullet shut him up. Two seconds later he joined his comrades on the floor and in the next world. Only Dahlia remained. She could be useful as a hostage. I turned around but the place where we fought just a couple of minutes ago was empty.

“She left! Dammit!” I swore. 

“We have to leave too. Quickly!” hurried Valerie, picking up a new firearm from the pre-war Mauser left by dying bodyguard. 

In a moment she relieved the poor fellow of suffering. 

“Consider that you were discharged”. She took out a bag of bullets for a revolver from her pocket and handed it to me.  
In the turmoil of the shootout I didn’t pay attention to the new look of Valerie. A medical gown and mask remained in the laboratory; the woman was left with only a bulletproof vest over a T-shirt and pants covered with blood. White shoes were replaced by army tarpaulin boots. Her fatigue become her decisiveness. I didn’t argue because ASG is not ASG without Avian but this nurse saved my life at least twice. A compelling reason to go with her.

“Where?”

“To a safe place. I'll tell you along the way”.

“A safe place...” I grinned in my thoughts. “Where’s it generally safe in this future, since even the last bastion of hope was made the property of mafia?”

I loaded my gun and silently left behind Valerie.


End file.
